Morose plodding Goth metal to commit suicide by. Seriously, buy this album and kill yourself. I’m not joking. You’ll do the band a favor by purchasing their music in convenient to carry CD format and you’ll rid the world of yet another beast placing a burden on its limited natural resources. In that way you do all the world a favor and the band a favor, twice. Of course, by wasting yourself you’ll never be able to buy another album from this European sextet, and no longer be able to enjoy the depressing melodies they weave. The manly nuances of the lead male vocals, his many emotional vicissitudes from sad and downtrodden to sad and hopeful that the downtrodding will soon end will forever be beyond your reach in the land of the living.
There’s no better title for Entwine’s newest album than the one they’ve chosen “Time of Despair.” Every note and every lyric seems steeped in despair. Maybe that makes it some sort of emotionally unstable concept album but what it makes it for me is a real bummer, man. They’re like totally bringing my trip down and shit. You know?